


Taste of Temptation

by alex_fix



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Instant Attraction, Lust at First Sight, Nicole wants to taste Waverly, Paris (City)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28429101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_fix/pseuds/alex_fix
Summary: Waverly decides life is too short to play it safe. Will the invitation from a tall, flame-haired stranger be what she needs to spice up her life...
Relationships: Jeremy Chetri/Robin Jett, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 1
Kudos: 50





	Taste of Temptation

Thumping music was doing nothing for Waverly’s headache. Her feet ached too from wearing far too high heels for far too long, all she wanted to do was to leave the club to which Jeremy and Robin had dragged her, hoping to return to her hotel room, fall into bed, order room service as a treat the next morning.

The Paris launch party earlier that evening had gone extremely well. Better than she hoped. The European press were in love with the new concept. Socially aware footwear, well-designed, well-placed, well-priced, Waverly had been brought over from the States to promote the company’s message, namely buying shoes could benefit those who couldn’t afford those shoes. She recognised the hypocrisy, consoling herself what she was doing was a step in the right direction to a fairer world.

“Another shot?” Robin asked, offering to go to the bar. “The night is young.”

Waverly shook her head, adding to the pain she was experiencing. “I need to go. You guys are great.”

“No, you can’t go,” Jeremy insisted, lower lip sticking out. “Robin’s right, the night is just getting started, as we are. Stay. Please, please, please.”

“Fine, one drink,” Waverly replied, relenting, not wanting to let her newly-found friends down. “I’m not used to all this partying.”

She needed water and painkillers, anything to take the throbbing from her temples. Heading to the bathroom she checked the dispenser. Condoms, a weird tooth cleaning ball to be chewed, no headache pills. She huffed as she saw her reflection in the mirror. _Girl,_ she thought, _you really need to get some sleep. You look a mess._

She didn’t look a mess. Quite the opposite. She looked gorgeous, but it had been a while since anyone truly noticed her, let alone passed a genuine compliment. A college fling turned into a longer romance, one too comfortable to break away from, contenting herself with the inevitability of one day being Mrs. Hardy. It saved her having to put herself out there, get someone to notice her, make her feel special. Cosy slippers and cosy cuddles with Champ were her go to respite from a world becoming too fast-paced for her, even at the tender age of twenty-four.

Several splashes of water on her face, she was ready to return to the party for one more drink, then she would definitely call a cab. She made her way through the club, failing to notice the tall flame-haired woman watching her, sipping a vodka soda at the bar, her eyes drinking in Waverly’s movements in a black cocktail dress that hugged the contours of her lithe body perfectly.

Robin handed her a shot. “To us. To the best team Paris has ever seen.”

She downed the drink, coughing as it hit the back of her throat. “God, Robin. What is that?” she asked, not recognising the taste.

“Not sure. That gorgeous redhead at the end of the bar bought them for us,” Robin replied, trying not to make it obvious he was talking about the woman staring at them. He raised his glass as he caught her gaze, she doing the same.

Waverly had her back to whoever Robin was saluting, wondering whether she should check out their party provider, deciding it would not look cool. She stood, the motion making her feel lightheaded, attempting to focus on something that was not moving. Hands touched her lower back, the lightest of gestures, reassuring, as a mother would comfort a child.

She was tempted to close her eyes, fall back into the arms of whoever had come to her rescue. “You need to be careful,” the voice said, so soft she almost didn’t catch the words.

A distinctive Eastern European accent. Polish perhaps, Or, Hungarian. Maybe Russian. She couldn’t tell, her ability to distinguish European accents limited. How was she to know where someone’s accent originated? Slovakia, Slovenia, so what. As long as they could converse in English that was all that mattered.

“I do not want to intrude,” the voice said, Waverly turning, catching her breath as the sexiest eyes looked into her soul. “I will leave you. Enjoy.”

“No. Stay,” Waverly blurted, without thinking, her head suddenly not so painful, her own eyes remaining locked on this stranger’s face. “Was it you who bought the drinks?”

“It is my pleasure. I do not see you before. Someone so attractive I would notice.”

Waverly felt an unexpected flutter as the stranger spoke. The melody in their voice, the way each word rolled across their tongue, holding her captive, keeping her entranced. She found herself locked in a mutual gaze unable to pull her eyes away, wondering why a stranger in a strange club was having this much of an effect. It was Robin who broke the spell, suggesting he and Jeremy take to the dance floor, leaving Waverly to get acquainted with whoever had walked into her life.

“Why have I not seen you before?” the stranger asked, taking Waverly’s hand, guiding her to the bar. “I must know you, before the night is over.”

“I’m only here for a few days,” Waverly replied. “I’m here for work. We had a big launch of our new product. I fly home Tuesday.”

“Tuesday. That is so sad. So little time. Home is where?”

“New York. America.”

The stranger laughed. “Ah, so that is where New York is. I wondered.”

“Sorry. Of course it’s America. Where’s your home?”

“Here. Wherever I choose. Romania is where I’m from.”

“I love your accent,” Waverly said. “Very sexy. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Do not apologise. If you think it is sexy, then it is sexy.”

Waverly rubbed the side of her head, the pain returning. The stranger placing her hand against Waverly’s, the touch instantly relieving the pain. “I see you are not well. Come, let me take you somewhere less noisy.”

“I should tell the guys I’m going.”

“One of my men will let them know you are with me. I promise to return you.”

The stranger beckoned two burly men over, whispering to one, pointing at Jeremy. He nodded, moving off in the direction of Jeremy and Robin, the other man escorting them from the club. Waverly was impressed. Whoever this woman was she had men guarding her in a club. Evidently, important or wealthy enough to need such protection, Waverly guessed. An expensive black Mercedes pulled up at the entrance, the bodyguard opening the door, the stranger inviting Waverly to enter.

She had never done anything like this. Ever. Getting into a strange car, with a stranger, in a strange city. Everything she was doing went against her better judgment, yet she wanted to go, wanted to remain in the company of this gorgeous woman.

“I adore Paris,” the stranger said as they sped through the now empty streets.

“So do I. It has a life of its own. You know, I don’t usually get into cars with strangers,” Waverly said, wondering why she allowed herself to be swept away by this stranger. Also, why it felt so incredibly right.

“I would be disappointed if you did do this all the time. I prefer the cautious to the curious. More fun. More enjoyment for me to win you over.”

Waverly laughed. “I’m in a car with you. I think you’ve won already. Where are we going?”

“To my apartment. It is not far. I find clubs too distracting. Here we can be ourselves.”

Waverly wasn’t sure this was such a good idea. She turned her head to look at the passing scene, wondering whether she should apologise, ask to be dropped off at her hotel. _Live a little,_ she thought. _What’s the harm in going back to a complete stranger’s apartment, in a strange car, in a strange city. At least see what her place looks like. God, sis will laugh when she hears what I’ve done. Perhaps not tell Champ._

The stranger opened the door to her apartment, allowing Waverly to enter, the second time that night Waverly’s breath had been taken away. “Wow,” was all she could say. “Seriously, this is…is this where you live?”

The stranger laughed. “I steal it.”

“Sorry. I don’t know why I’m saying stupid things. Guess I’m nervous. And, impressed.”

“I am glad. I would hate for you not to like it. Please, go in. We will be more comfortable.”

Waverly entered, her eyes taking in the scale and décor, so different to where she lived. The cramped apartment she shared with Champ could fit into one corner of the living area. Tall ceilings, walls painted black, two large contemporary chandeliers filling the room with soft light, reminding her of spider webs glistening with morning dew. Deep leather couches on an expensive looking rug, black and white marble coffee tables matching the ornate fireplace on the far wall. A gold statue of a naked man, twice her height standing erect near tall windows.

The room had a masculine feel, yet oozed a Parisian sexiness of its own. She could understand why someone would want to live there. It was like nothing she had ever seen, like this stranger. Her unique beauty able to hold her gaze longer than she would care to admit, her charming manner lulling her into doing things she would not normally do. The stranger headed to the kitchen in the far corner. Modern, stylish, very chic. “You live here alone?” Waverly asked, as she followed.

“But, of course,” the stranger replied. “I would need a bigger apartment if I was to share.”

Waverly laughed. “This is pretty big. Oh wow, nice artwork,” she said, spotting the huge photo of a woman’s open mouth against one wall.

“It is me. A little reminder of my taste. My lover insisted I do it.”

“Oh, so you are with someone,” Waverly said, suddenly a little disappointed this stranger had someone.

The stranger could see Waverly’s expression. “My ex-lover. As I say, I live alone. Champagne?”

“No, I’d better not. My head won’t thank me in the morning if I have any more.”

“Ah, yes. Come, I will help your head.”

Taking Waverly’s hand, she led her to one of the couches, sitting, waiting for Waverly to be seated. She motioned with one hand for Waverly to turn away, placing her fingers lightly on her temples, pressing for a few moments before releasing. Her hands moved to Waverly’s shoulders, the sensation of muscles being massaged relaxing her, the pain in her head disappearing. That’s…that’s wonderful. Where did you learn to do that?”

“Many years ago. You are tense, I can feel it. You carry the world too much up here,” the stranger said, her touch becoming stronger.

“I wish my boyfriend could do this,” Waverly replied, suddenly wishing she hadn’t mentioned Champ.

The stranger dropped her hands, a silence falling between them, Waverly turning her body to face her. “Forgive me, I should not be so forward. I will have my driver return you.”

“We’re not that close,” Waverly blurted. “In fact, I was thinking of breaking up with him when I get back. I’m sorry, that sounds so desperate.”

The stranger smiled. “You would break up with your boyfriend because of a stranger.”

“No. I…look, whoever you are, whatever you do, I’ve experienced more in one hour with you than I’ve experienced in five years with Champ. I’m not breaking up with him because of you, I’m just beginning to realise there’s more to life than the life I’ve settled for. Jeez, sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“I understand. But, I must warn you my life is very different. It may not be to your liking.”

It was Waverly’s turn to smile. “I’m tempted to try a sample of your life, see if I like it.”

“It would be my pleasure. I think you will not return to this boyfriend of yours after you sample.”

 _Oh, girl,_ she thought. _What are you doing? This is so far beyond what you’ve ever done. This goes no further. Please let it be as good as I’m hoping._

She took the stranger’s hand, following her up the stairs to a bedroom, the stranger opening the curtains to illuminate the room, a king size bed before them. Waverly felt hands on her arms, full lips seeking the soft skin of her neck, their touch sending ripples of pleasure through her body. She felt the zip of her dress being released, a hand pulling the dress away from her body, more kisses on her neck. “Is this what you want?” the stranger asked. “I only go where you want me to go. No further.”

“I’ve not done this before,” Waverly whispered. “I’ve never been with…”

“Then let me guide you. It is an honour to be your first.”

Waverly felt another wave of pleasure as the stranger’s fingers trailed down her spine. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe what you’re doing to my body. I’ve never felt this alive.”

“Living, dying. They are all the same. Once you have tasted death, it holds no more fear.”

Waverly opened her eyes. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“It is as easy as one small step. One small bite and you can join me, here, for as long you desire.”

“Whoa, back up. No one is biting me. I’m not into kinky.”

The stranger smiled. “I desire you. The girl who seeks to live a little, why not live a lot. And, die to me. We could dine out on others, come alive by night. I could show you so much. I do find you enticing. Your smell is intoxicating to someone like me. Let me taste you.”

Waverly back was now against the door. “You can’t be. I don’t believe in you. Please, this isn’t what I want. I don’t want you sucking my blood, turning me into a creature of the night.”

The stranger pinned Waverly against the door, enjoying the fear in her eyes, feeling her body shake, knowing she had her right where she wanted. “But, you accepted my invitation. You entered my home. You are mine to do as I please. Now, where is that delicious neck of yours? I hunger for your innocence.”

“And cut,” the film director shouted. “Okay, I want to see even more fear in your eyes. You’re about to be devoured by a vampire.”

Waverly turned to Nicole. “We’re going for drinks later, you want to come?”

“Maybe. I'll think about it.”

“Suit yourself. You know you should live a little. Get out, enjoy yourself. I could show you.”

“I’m not much of a party animal,” Nicole replied.

“Who said anything about partying? I’m thinking pizza and wine in my hotel room afterwards.”

“Then what?”

“Oh, perhaps a movie. You and me, on the bed, watching something scary, you helping me relax after a hard day being bitten by vampires.”

Nicole laughed. “And, will you help me relax?”

Waverly nodded. “Oh, you’ll definitely be relaxed by the time I’ve finished with you.”

“Okay. I’m in. But, no horror films. And, no biting this time.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you like these one shots check out my longer stories, where I get to play with words a little more...
> 
> [Wayhaught Fanfic on AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lymers/works)


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